


a lot to unpack

by sourgore



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Fix-It, Homophobic Language, IT Chapter Two Spoilers, M/M, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), being gay and talking about life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 04:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20847194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourgore/pseuds/sourgore
Summary: two bros boozin' and chillin' after killing the interdimensional demon clown





	a lot to unpack

**Author's Note:**

> this is A Mess but i just saw chap 2 and had feelings

“You _cannot_ seriously be considering that, Eddie,”

It’s just gone one, and they’re the last two at the bar, nursing whiskeys and trying to process exactly _what the fuck they just did_.

“I can’t just leave her, she’ll probably like, kill herself or something.” Eddie throws back his drink, and Richie’s really trying to focus on his eyes and not the way his throat moves, or _god_, the way his tongue sneaks out and licks the rim of the glass after he swallows.

“First of all,” he says, leaning further into Eddie’s personal space than he should, “is that _really_ a problem. And, may I mention, you just killed a killer fucking demon clown who _possibly_ came from outer space.”

“_First of all,_” Eddie mimics, “she’s my wife, no matter how much I despise her–”

“He admits it!” Richie yells, gleefully. Eddie shoots him the classic ‘I am Going to Murder You in Your Sleep’ glare.

“We’re _married_, Richie. I know you’re not familiar with the term ‘commitment’–”

“–fucking _rude–_”

“but some of us are, and I distinctly remember something about ‘till death doing us part”

“I mean, you _almost_ died today, can’t we just stretch the definition? Anyway, I refuse to believe your marriage is, how do you say, _consummated_.” Richie grabs the bottle (this bar is woefully understaffed) and fills them both up, making sure to stop when Eddie does this little widening of the eyes meaning _that’s enough_.

“You’re implying I’ve never had sex with my wife?”

“I’m implying that you haven’t fucked a carbon copy of your mom, which is frankly_ way_ freakier than a sexless marriage.”

Choking on his whiskey, Eddie slams his head on the bar. “You are _disgusting_.”

“I take pride in it,” Richie grins. “But, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Of whether I’ve fucked my wife? Of course I’ve fucked my wife, Richie.” His eyes slide away, looking at the selection of liquors.

“Well, I could make plenty of jokes,” – but Richie’s crass, not stupid – “but I think there’s something you’re not telling.” He snaps his fingers, and Eddie’s eyes fly back to him. “When’s the last time you had sex? With Myra, of course.”

Eddie swallows. Looks like he’s trying to forge a believable but less embarrassing answer.

“The truth, Eddie Spaghetti~”

Eddie mumbles something under his breath.

“Gonna have to speak up, dude, my hearing’s fucked from listening to adoring crowds scream my name on the daily, and your mom screaming my name in–”

“Seven years, okay?” Eddie’s biting his lip, and Richie really, _really _wants to make a shitty joke, but he can see Eddie’s brain whirring, wondering if it’s alright to continue, and sometimes, just _sometimes_, Richie is capable of shutting the fuck up. He rests his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, just lightly. A silent _I’m here for you_.

Eddie draws a deep breath. “Haven’t touched her in seven years. I just noticed, one day, how much she looked like _her_, how much she_ was_ her, and I just…couldn’t. _Really_ couldn’t, if you catch my drift. Not that she minds, I don’t think.” He stares into middle-distance. “I think she just liked having someone she could control. Someone weaker.”

Richie’s heart burns, aches for Eddie’s lost years. He moves his thumb on Eddie’s shoulder, drawing light circles through his cardigan (which was another issue entirely).

“You’re not weak,” he breathes.

Eddie’s hand comes up to cover Richie’s. “There’s more. But you have to tell me something first.”

“Yeah?”

“What did IT show you? When you found your artefact?”

Richie wonders if Eddie can feel his heart miss a beat. He tries to laugh, but it comes out all wrong, just like Pennywise’s distorted cackle. “Nothing much, just a highlight reel of me and your mom,” he jokes, but Eddie’s looking serious, and he knows he’s gonna have to face the music. Eddie could always see through his bullshit.

“Fine, fine,” he says, trying to recover a shred of his bravado so he doesn’t break down then and there. “It was a memory, of back in the day, at the arcade, you remember the Street Fighter machine?”

“The one with the over-muscled dudes and half-naked chicks?”

“The one and only. So, I was playing with this–” he tries not to trip over the word “–_guy_, and I had a spare token, so I asked him to go another round. ‘Cept of course, I pulled a Bill and sounded like a love-struck schoolgirl.” He stares at the table. He can’t deal with seeing Eddie’s reaction right now. “And this guy was like ‘_what, are you fucking gay,_’ and then fucking Bowers walks in and guess what? He’s this kid’s _fucking cousin_. Seriously, what are the chances.”

Richie swallows. “So, y’know, his band of idiots start calling me a fairy, a cocksucker, a _faggot_, and it fucking _hurt_, worse than any of Pennywise’s dumb shit, and you know why?” It’s suddenly too hot in here, the pressure of admitting this _thing_ just crushing him, but he’s gotta do it, ‘cause goddamn it he just killed a fucking alien clown and almost died and he’s _not gonna waste this second chance_.

“Why?” Eddie asks softly. Richie turns to look him in the eye and _god_ he’s so beautiful–

“Because it was real.”

Richie expects Eddie to pull his hand off his shoulder, for his mouth to curl into a sneer and snarl ‘_you disgusting fucking faggot’_.

He expects cruelty, so when Eddie leans forward, cups his cheek in his free hand, he freezes. When Eddie asks, ‘_is this okay?_’ he can only nod, and when Eddie kisses him it takes a moment to register before he’s kissing him back, and it’s like_ shit, maybe I just discovered the meaning of my life_, and it’s passion and love and excitement and _Eddie_.

They pause for breath, foreheads touching, too close to be staring into each other’s eyes but trying anyway. Richie breaks the silence, because of course he does, and he has to know that this is real and happening right now and not the cruellest joke of his entire life.

“Are you like, for real?” he asks, intelligently. “Like, you’re seriously Eddie Kaspbrak and not Pennywise 2?”

Eddie smirks. “You think Pennywise has this level of skill?” and they’re kissing again, deeper this time, and it’s so _hot_ and when Eddie gets his hands all up in Richie’s hair he practically _moans_.

“Where,” pants Richie, “the _fuck_, did you learn to do that, and do _not_ say Myra because I _know_ she kisses like a wet dog, and I know _that_ from all the times I fucked your mom.”

“Beep-beep, Richie,” says Eddie, but he’s laughing and honestly? Seeing Eddie Kaspbrak smile makes Richie’s heart grow like the fucking Grinch’s. “But yeah,” Eddie continues, “I wasn’t exactly _dry _for seven years, if you catch my drift.”

Richie fake-gasps. “I am clutching my pearls right now, Edward. Your beautiful, sexy mother did _not_ raise you– who am I kidding, if I was married to her I would’ve contracted chlamydia on purpose.”

“You are truly disgusting,” Eddie smiles. “I just, felt like I was looking for someone out there, like there was something I was forgetting, a piece of my soul missing. And then I come here, and find you, and it all comes back.” He traces a finger down Richie’s cheek, coming to a stop at the corner of his mouth. Richie’s trying not to spontaneously combust.

“I think you should get a divorce,” he says, after a second, because it’s possibly too soon to confess undying love to someone you forgot existed until yesterday. And, fuck it, he’s kinda angry too, angry at this woman for wasting years of his precious Eddie’s life, making him feel weak and helpless and _fragile_.

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Eddie says (he looks so _happy_ and call Richie an addict, ‘cause he’s already feeling kiss withdrawals), “you’re right. I fucking _killed a demon _today. Well, _we_ did, but still, I was there.”

“Honestly, when you threw that spear at It? Sexier than any porno. Even a MILF one.”

“Even one starring my mother?”

“Okay, a close second.” Richie runs his hand through Eddie’s hair. He _absolutely _uses that overpriced L’Oréal shit. “But seriously, you deserve better. For example, someone who _doesn’t _emotionally abuse you. Possibly even someone who gets your dick up.”

“God, when you put it like that.” Eddie leans back in his stool. “I have a _lot_ to unpack.”

“Luckily for you,” says Richie, “I’ve got plenty of space.”

**Author's Note:**

> and then they had hot sweaty sex and lived happily ever after
> 
> this is the first fic ive ever published pls be nice


End file.
